Mountain Musing

"I was down at the inner harbor, just got done tying the boat up after an evening of fishing. The marine radio was still on, tuned to the emergency channel #16. The tsunami warning had already gone out and the town had evacuated to higher ground. Everyone was in cars, lining the upper road and the road to the dump, watching the water rising. The tsunami didn't come in one big cresting wave, but rather came up steadily like a really fast and high tide.

"Suddenly the radio crackled to life: 'Mayday! Mayday! Mayday!' announcing that the first and second grade class were having a slumber party at the school and had been overlooked in the evacuation of the town. They were trapped!

"I took my boat knife out of the scabbard that I have permanently riveted to my chest and cut the boat loose. It was a short cruise up to the school, riding the rising water. There I found 24 kids trapped on top of the school bus, cold salt water lapping their little ankles. I loaded them in the boat, ran them out to our cabin and made them all hot chocolate and cookies while we waited for the water to go down. All the parents lining the highs road got to see the rescue so I didn't have to call the parents. After the water went down I gave them all a ride home.

"It was a pretty good evening, I didn't catch any fish, but did get three nice crabs and found a couple crab pots that had been missing for three months.

"Love, dad"

(This email came from my friend, Jeff Chelmo, who dwells on Alaska's Chuchagof Island. I thought it sufficiently evocative to ask to reprint it in my "Musing" blog. The only problem was, in Jeff's words, it was "creative writing 101"--it simply wasn't true. Still, it sucked me in, and I'll bet it did you, too. So let's continue exploring the tale and its creator in Thursday's Mountain Musing.)